


Decoded Message

by Witchtomez



Series: Yoosung Week 2018 NSFW [3]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Implied Oral Sex, Romance, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchtomez/pseuds/Witchtomez
Summary: There were many,many regretsin Luciel Choi’s short, young life.Currently, there was one regret that held the crown for ‘Poor Life Choices’ in the last year, maybe even the last three years…his whole life possibly-–he was unsure, but it was certainly his most unpopular choice inthe last 15 minutes.





	Decoded Message

There were many, _many_ regrets in Luciel Choi’s short, young life.

Currently, there was one regret that held the crown for ‘Poor Life Choices’ in the last year, maybe even the last three years…his whole life possibly-–he was unsure, but it was certainly his most unpopular choice in the _last 15 minutes._

* * *

Yoosung gripped his champagne flute tighter than necessary, but he was truly _struggling_.

**1.)** She was wearing green, which would have been attractive enough by itself **2.)** but the _form-fitting cool green_ that only covered from the plunging neckline at the bust down to the mid-thigh **3.)** while hiding beneath black lace overlay that stretched over the bare, sun-kissed skin of her graceful neck and middle of her forearms; **4.)** the silver threader earrings that hung amethyst stars from her lobes on top of **5.)** the shimmery metallic ice blue lip color and 6.) the elegant, swept up-do she’d chosen for the RFA evening party… _well._

Yoosung couldn’t help but feel like there was a deliberate message coded into this look somehow.

But he couldn’t be _sure_ , so he just tried to pay mind to the guests and make sure the party was a success…even if he had to drain his glass quickly and set it down somewhere safely.

The problem was when she bent over to adjust the ankle strap of her heel; it required her to flex her knee, revealing the side slit of her skirt and a peek of a garter belt strap. Having been on her feet for over two hours at this point, balance was not the best thing to test; particularly not on the plush carpet with such thin heels–-so when a guest held her hand and waist steady just a _little too long_ after the shoe was set properly for Yoosung’s tastes, he made a beeline over to the small gathering around her.

“Good evening, everyone! I hope you’re having a good time?” he said, entering the circle cheerfully, his hand quick to land on the coordinator’s shoulder. Once he was satisfied with the round of nods and praise, he thanked the gentlemen and turned back to her.

“That’s wonderful to hear! I hope you’ll excuse us, but I need a quick word with our party coordinator! We’ll be back soon!”

“Hm? Yoosung-–? Oh, well ok, have a look at the gallery set up until I get back, gents!”

As Yoosung power-walked out of the ballroom, the coordinator found her footing easily and followed behind, trying not to be too smug.

When they finally stopped in an empty, unoccupied meeting room with a lovely balcony, Yoosung fidgeted while his girlfriend shifted her weight to lean on the conference desk; waiting for him to decide how to break the silence.

“Your feet…are…are they ok?”

Laughter spilled past her lips before she covered her mouth, futilely containing her mirth. Yoosung rolled his eyes and sighed, knowing he’d messed that up.

“My feet are fine, Yoosung…thanks for your concern.” Yoosung let his eyes fall to the floor lamely.

“Yeah…of cou–”

“Now why don’t you ask me what you _really_ dragged me away to find out?”

The blunt challenge in the question hit Yoosung like a dousing of frigid water, snapping his head up to offer apologies for wasting her time-–but the words died on his tongue when he saw her sitting atop the surface of the table, one leg neatly folded over the other highlighting the high slit thigh seam of the dress and the hosiery beneath.

Yoosung swallowed when he saw a few star charms looped around the strap of the garter belt, glittering in the moonlight against the amber tones of her skin. He slowed and let his eyes absorb every detail as they raked up her relaxed form. When he finally got to her sleekly lined eyes, he understood only one thing:

_He was being called out_ –-but for what purpose exactly and _why_? Narrowing his eyes, he stepped forward until he was in her personal space, leaning forward until he was nearly at her nose. Swallowing tentatively, he steeled his voice.

“Cutie...?’ he said, tinting the familiar pet name with light accusation, ’…I can’t help but feel like…like you’re trying to tell me something with–-with _this.”_ His hand waved, vaguely gesturing at all of her; she tilted her head and blinked for him for him to continue his thought.

“Precious girl…are you teasing me with your pretty clothes somehow?” Yoosung interrogated, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. A soft laugh, then-–

“With clothes? And makeup and jewelry? What message did you derive from that?” she goaded, poorly feigning innocence. He locked his eyes on hers, amethyst irises slowly being overtaken by black as his pupils expanded in the dark room. Neither one looked away as his fingers played with the stars hanging near her neck, but an unrestrained gasp escaped her when his left hand drifted to brush the cluster of stars hanging by her supple thigh.

“For example, because you’re so thoughtful, these stars seem like they’re calling my name to say 'look here’…” his index finger dropped the small chain tassel and slid under the elastic of the garter strap, tracing higher and higher. Yoosung wanted to grin and treat her surprise as a small victory, but there was _such_ a spark of triumph in her eyes, he held back.

“And of course you already knew that I like the color green, but then you have it covered in this pretty black lace that’s letting me see your beautiful skin better than the green, so now I feel conflicted over it…”

Her smirk remained the same, but her eyebrows arched ever so slightly, so Yoosung pressed forward with his analysis.

“And your makeup tonight…it’s very pretty, but also…sharper. Darker. This lip color is…it looks amazing, but it’s not a color many women wear…”

His thumb and index finger gently led her chin up for closer examination. He broke eye contact momentarily, flicking his gaze to her lips and back again, asking for permission. She blinked slowly and her smile grew; he very gently let his thumbpad ghost over her bottom lip; to his surprise, it was still very soft and the color did not smear even a little–-the only evidence he ever touched them was the subtle shimmer of irridescent powder sitting in his thumbprint.

“You look almost… _dangerous_ , my love,’ he deduced, dropping his voice lower as he spoke into her ear. The dangling star swayed lightly as she breathed in, still too comfortable for his liking.

"I see–-with all that in mind, what message do you think I intended for you, Yoosung?”

Yoosung wasn’t sure just when, but his heart rate had increased so gradually that he didn’t notice it pounding in his ears until the room was silent. Still, he refused to back away, and flattened his hands on the surface just behind her back.

“I think you want me to do something… _risky_ with you tonight–-’ one hand found the small of her back and pressed her closer so that her nylon-clad knees lightly found contact with the front of his slacks…and what lay beneath them.

’-–and I think...you were trying to tell me that I was taking too long to figure it out by readjusting these really high heels the way you did. So tell me;’ the hand on her back lowered slightly, then took a firm grip, ’–-did I read you correctly?”

Her eyes intensified though her expression stayed casual.

“You’re certain that this isn’t just wishful thinking?” Yoosung’s breathing became heavy; he knew he was still being tested and his frustration rose.

“No–-I very well could be. But that’s my interpretation…now answer me,” he demanded, then blinked before putting in a proper 'please.’

Truly, she was impressed. She pushed him back and eyed him appraisingly, crossing her arms and examining him in consideration: his posture was firm and grounded but non-threatening, yet his expression belied intense feelings of challenge, incredulity and agitated excitement.

“Hmm…well, ’ the woman resumed her leaning posture, though she uncrossed her legs, 'I would like to say 'yes’ but…” Yoosung’s eye twitched, and the coordinator bit the inside of her lip to quell the laughter.

“ _'But’?_ ” 

One high-heeled foot tapped the ground as she slid forward to the edge.

“…but you’ve only managed to figure out the instructions; you’ve yet to **follow** them.”

There was a pregnant pause before Yoosung began to undo his bow-tie and roll up his sleeves to his elbows, advancing towards her until her other foot rested its toe just above his visibly straining erection.

“One condition:,' he gave a tense nod and waited to hear it, 'my makeup, hair and stockings must remain intact; we still have work to do after this.”

Hearing her confirm that ’ ** _this’_ **was a real thing and not something he’d desperately misinterpreted lit a searing heat within his chest as he set his lips to her shoulders, kissing her firmly through the lace while her hands swiftly relieved him of his suspenders.

Yoosung let his tongue trace along the edge of the lace v-neck opening as it descended to the mid-valley of her cleavage, netting him hushed gasping and whines sealed firmly behind her lips; he finally let a grin overtake his features at this little victory.

But his bravado soon faltered as his hand started back at the third location of the calling card she'd left for him–-he was right on track as his fingertips brushed the meteor charm, followed the line of elastic past the lace border of the thigh-highs, up to the actual garter belt itself...

_but…_

* * *

Zen grabbed hold of Seven and whispered in his ear, away from the party guests.

“Hey, have you seen Yoosung? There’s some techie guest that I can’t really talk to, I need him to handle them.” Seven donned a cheshire cat grin and shrugged.

“Mm, no? Did you ask his girlfriend?” Zen blinked and looked up, scanning the room.

“No, I didn’t think to…but hey, where is she? Did she go to the bathroom?” The redhead’s grin only grew.

“Oohhh, do you think our little Yoosung is all grown up and pulling off manly, _wolfish_ escapades?” A furious blush bloomed over alabaster skin as the actor smacked him on the shoulder.

“Dude, don’t talk nonsense-–besides, do you really think our party coordinator would be so flippant with her duties?”

“Owwie, Zennnnyyy’ he whined, dramatically rubbing at his shoulder. Zen’s lip curled and Seven laughed, ending the joke before he got a real injury to complain about.

"Don’t worry, I’ll call him and then run distraction for you,” he reassured, waving off the actor who made his way to the water station. Seven pulled out his phone and began dialing...

* * *

Yoosung paled.

He couldn’t find even a _hint_ of the missing undergarment.

“…Honey…d-did you…” he said thickly. Sitting up slightly, the woman used her foot to maneuver one of the large office chairs behind her stunned paramour, then planted her soles on his thighs to sit him down. His breathing began to shake roughly behind his fist when her hand gracefully inched up the flap of her skirt, revealing more of the tempting skin until Yoosung’s instincts decided the pace was too painful to endure.

His parched throat suddenly began to salivate as his eyes shot an incredulous glare at her daring, which only amused her more. Something within Yoosung snapped; he refused to let her keep her composure a moment longer and let his hands ride up the smooth calves to her knees before wrenching them apart and scooping his arms under, dragging her almost off the edge of the polished wood.

He spied reflections of light trapped in the trail of slickness that adorned her inner thighs, almost down to the lacy border; the triumphant burning in his chest from before became a heavier smoldering that settled much, **much** lower. Tasting the moonlight caught on her skin, Yoosung looked up to find the confident veneer giving way as she clapped one hand over her mouth, almost smothering her cries.

“Don’t worry,’ he consoled her, eyes hidden by his deceptively kind smile, 'I’ll make sure you’re cleaned up before we go back-–”

A small yelp escaped her throat when he yanked her forward again, forcing her to her back and rolling the skirt above her hips. Now perfectly positioned, Yoosung dove in, lapping up wherever the light of the stars and moon had caught within her pooling arousal.

However…the muted cellphone that the RFA coordinator had placed behind her had been knocked aside in the abrupt movements…

* * *

Seven was already on edge, having no response from Yoosung’s phone when he called. Fearing the worst, he dialed the only other person most likely to know of his location and waited for her to pick up.

To his luck, there was finally the sound of the receiver picking up.

To his _great_ misfortune, he found out **exactly** where Yoosung was at that moment.

“Noooooo, no way…” he muttered to himself, willing the sounds out of his brain with little success.

* * *

Yoosung drank his fill, both of her poorly restrained moans and even less restrained pleasure. True to form, he did not allow their exertion to ruin her carefully prepared attire: he’d long since peeled the ensemble and laid it out neatly over another chair, along with his formal shirt and tie which were soon to be joined by his trousers.

Still, he took a moment to appreciate the vision before him; panting heavily, his love laid upon the gleaming wood. Her arms fell above her while her legs curled weakly toward her core, trembling ever so gently within the silken tights. Yoosung was thankful that his eyes had adjusted to the dark well enough to burn the image of her nearly nude form, bathed in the soft light of the clear night sky.

Keeping his eyes fixed to the moonlight as it swam across her breasts with each deep breath, Yoosung felt through his pockets, growing agitated when he didn’t find what he was looking for.

’ _Oh no…’_

Panic began to rear it’s head; Yoosung knew there was no way both of them would be able to go back either clean or undiscovered if he did not find that damn condom. Either they would have to stop and his raging erection would give a moritifying confirmation of what they were up to, or…well.

No matter the assignment given, Yoosung was certain neither one of them wanted to be **that** dangerous right now.

His rustling was interrupted when hands stilled his search; seeing her calm smile, he breathed and felt himself do the same. Taking his pants from his hold and discarding them on the nearest chair, Yoosung watched his lover slide two fingers beneath the elastic of her lacy belt to extract the key item.

Having her nearly at even eye level with him instead of the usual few inches shorter, posing with the foil while brazenly nude, had an instantaneous effect as his erection painfully reminded him that he had run out of patience. Yoosung leaned his head back, biting back a growl-–a toothy smile gleamed between her ethereally tinted lips. Leading him back to the edge of the table, she rolled the contraceptive over his heated shaft and planted a soft kiss to the tip, looking up and waiting for a reaction.

Yoosung had really had it; he snapped, smiling like one of the damned, resigned to temptation.

“So _**bad**_ ,’ he chided between erratic pants of frustration; his lover–-kind, supportive, ever adoring-–smirked and turned her back to him, leaning forward to press herself to the cool surface. "How could you–-nngh, do this to me-– _hahhh_... _God_ , ’ he moaned as he finally entered her from behind, the sound harmonizing with her sharp breaths as they bounced off the table.

Leaning forward to drag his fingers over the tops of the stockings, he let them dig harsh trails up to the crest of her hips before he pulled back and slammed his hips forward, releasing a sharp cry from the woman as she strained to keep her legs from buckling.

"I was–-ngh–-trying so hard-–mm-–to be-–good!”

His hips fell into a steady rhythm once he was satisfied with the previous staccato pace he’d delivered with each smack of her thighs against his pelvis. She quivered between him and the table, utterly failing to contain her gasps with each thrust, so he leaned over to murmur low against her ear.

“I told you, my love–-I only ever want to make you feel safe and protected, but _I’m still a man_...I’m still the man that **loves you** –- _hahhn_!’ His admonishment was halted by the clenching of her walls around the cock he’d buried so deep within her.

Taking deep breaths, he struggled to continue, ”…so why would you go this far and keep pushing my limits? I’m already testing them all the time just being with you at your normal sweet and kind nature–-why did you make me become such a greedy wolf?“ he softly cried as he felt her fluttering around him, chuckling hoarsely.

"I still feel safe, Yoosung,’ came the strained, throaty confession. With a mounting surge of strength, she arched her lower back ever so slightly for better angling; Yoosung forced himself to keep pace, but her internal tremoring made it even more challenging.

”–- _why did I make you a greedy wolf_? **Because I can** ,“ she nearly growled, flattening her palms so that she could push against the desk. Yoosung grimaced, feeling the rapid tension building.

"Because I can–-because I’m strong enough and because _I need it_ …!” She propped herself up on the desk and back into his hips. Tears of exertion leaked from Yoosung’s eyes the more he absorbed her words.

“Do you really think you’re the only one ever holding back, Yoosung Kim?”

The pace would soon be the end for them both; the furious applause of skin echoed off the walls of the secluded room.

“Who knew my angel was hiding such a demon inside?” Yoosung teasingly rasped, breathing harshly against her skin. The rush of air cooled the sweat that gathered atop the taut muscles. She snarled and began clenching harder.

“Hah, silly! Angel-–demon-–I’m just the woman who loves you!”

That was it for Yoosung; he reached and pulled her arms behind her, thrusting himself further into her core until–-

“Ah! Hah! AHNN! Yoosung, I’m–- _!”_

“I won’t make you wait anymore-–so cum!”

Their rhythm pounded away rapidly for a few seconds more until her hushed keening and violent clenching sent him over with her; they both landed on the desk, gulping for air until their legs gave out and slid to the floor.

For once, Yoosung found his words first.

“...You mean to tell me I’ve made you just as…you really want me just as much as I…I want you?”

Turning to the side, he saw she’d raised her hand with her thumb up. He spluttered, laughing at the casual admittance while she opened one tired eye to squint at him.

“And you chose **_tonight_** to break me?! Cutie…honey, please…I’m sorry I made you wait, but please just tell me next time,” he pleaded through his giggles, planting errant kisses atop her head. Rolling over, the woman made it to her knees and pushed herself up to walk over and crack the doors to the balcony for airflow.

“I don’t know…you obviously figured out the message this way,” she teased, eyes closing as the wind drifted over and dried the sheen of perspiration. Yoosung found he couldn’t deny this as he retrieved their clothing and walked over to join her.

“Sweetie, please, you work so hard for these parties, I don’t want anyone complaining about your work ethic just because I was slow on the uptake…”

Her smile was sweet under the moonlight as she kissed his cheek.

“Still trying to protect this she-demon?” she purred. Color splashed across his face as he bit down a laugh.

“As you said, demon or angel, you’re still _my_ woman, so of course I’ll protect you.”

Flushing madly at the tit-for-tat, she began pelting him with the rest of his clothes as he laughed and dodged while redressing; eventually ending the fray, he wrapped her dress around her shoulders and pressed a kiss against her lips to soothe her embarrassment.

* * *

“Hey Seven, thanks for handling that guest, but…did you ever find Yoosung?”

The redhead coughed, wiping up the dribble of punch.

“Nope.”

The actor raised and eyebrow, taken aback at the nonchalant response.

“'No?’ Shouldn’t we find him then? Is he in danger-–?”

“ **No**! No, he is not. He’ll be back in a…he’ll be back.”

Zen grew frustrated; this was weird, even for him. Trying a different tack, the actor posed another question.

“So did you call them both?”

The cup he’d been lifting to his mouth paused in mid-air.

“I did…” he answered vaguely. Zen's impatience rose.

“Ok, give me your phone so I can see how long ago that was!” he said, extending his hand for the cell phone.

“No can do, I’m afraid. Dropped my phone in the stream outside,” Seven explained, sipping more punch. Balking at the blase' reply, Zen hesitated before speaking again.

“Seven…the stream is at least 30 meters from the doors and you’ve been in here all night, it would have to have been thrown–- _ **DUDE**_!” he jumped back as the younger man loomed into his personal space, blank face and slightly dead in his golden eyes.

“Zen, I don’t ask you for much, right…?”

“Wha…?”

“..I’m begging you… _please_ don’t ask me anything more and just…just wait.”

Now Zen was concerned as he held the despondent hacker by the shoulders, shaking him gently.

“Ok, ok–-I’ll trust you, all right? It’s gonna be fine, let’s go back to the party for now…”

For once, Seven let himself be steered back into the social fray without a fight, guarded by Zen who had gone into crisis management mode and immediately began loading a plate full of food for the man.


End file.
